Panic Moon
by Saffronica612
Summary: He had always hated guns. Nasty, crude things. His choice of weapons were words, or something harmless like his screwdriver, because if you pulled that trigger, sometimes you couldn't fix it.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I'd never thought I'd give my hand at an actual Doctor Who fic that had a plotline like an actual episode, but the new season is so good and I can't resist.

Title: "Panic Moon"  
Author: Smartkitty314  
Rating: PG-13. Nothing more mature than an actual episode.  
Genre: Adventure/Companionship. Written in imitation of the episode styles.  
Summary: He had always hated guns. Nasty, crude things. His choice of weapons were words, or something harmless like his screwdriver, because if you pulled that trigger, sometimes you couldn't fix it.  
Disclaimer: The author claims no ownership to any characters or ideas affiliated with the Doctor Who show and is merely borrowing them for the sake of her own enjoyment, with no intention of making a profit.

(¯`·._.·(¯`·._.·(¯`·._.·/ Panic Moon: Prologue \·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯)

The Doctor glared at the five covering figures, the sonic laser gun gleaming in his steady hand. Behind him, Amy bit her lip anxiously. On the one hand, she didn't want to say anything; after all, he was the Doctor, and he knew what he was doing, and she was just a Scottish girl far more misplaced than merely in an English village. On the other hand—

"Which one of you is it, then?" he growled. "You can't hide."

One of them, couldn't have been older than ten years old, gave a startled cry on fear. Instantly, the Doctor pounced on him, pinning him to the wall and clutching his neck, all while keeping the gun trained on the others. "Why are you doing this?" his mother wailed, reaching to grab her son only to be prodded back by the killing instrument he clutched. Turning his attention back to the boy, he squeezed tighter, causing him to gasp for breath.

"Doctor, don't you think this is going a bit far?" Amy squeaked. As he didn't respond, carefully, ever so tentatively, she reached and brushed her fingers across his shoulder. In a movement born of instinct, he pinned her hand with his other one, the one holding the cold silver gun.

Amy felt herself shiver. She had never really liked guns in the first place. She had discovered far too young that there were too many ways to die, too many ways to lose the people you cared about. The universe didn't need a gun to take her parents away; a simple transportation vehicle had done that job just fine.

Suddenly, the Doctor's eyes widened and he let go of the boy, whirling fully around to grasp her wrist with his now-free hand. Amy winced as she felt her delicate wrist groaning under his too-tight grasp. His expression transformed into one of anger, and suddenly, she felt very, very scared.

"Amelia Pond," he snarled. "I never thought it would be you. But of course. Who else do I trust, enough not to question, but keep at an arm's distance away?"

The gun was pointing at her now.

Just one flash, and it would be all over. And she knew what was after death: nothing. Because if there was an afterlife, there would be no reason for someone like the Doctor to stick around. If there was an afterlife, then why hadn't her parents even tried to contact her? If an afterlife was possible, there would be some way of measuring a soul, some sort of trace, some sort of proof. The brain was a web of electric transmitters and receivers, a glorified organic computer, and computers didn't live on after they shut down. They just…stopped.

And that was the scariest thought ever. Nothing, for all of eternity. Amelia Pond, gone, erased. Disappeared. How long before the people back at home stopped wondering where she'd gone? How long before all traces of her life were wiped from the universe?

A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye, and she quickly wiped it away with the hand he wasn't crushing. "Doctor, please," she begged. "You hate guns. No weapons. If I've done something wrong, just take me home, please!"

"Oh, you would like that," he spat, his face contorted with anger. "Destroy this colony, then off to Earth in the twenty-first century? No, this ends right here, right now. One death is enough for today."

She was sobbing now, and she couldn't stop. "No—p..please—Doctor, you're not yourself—please—just think…we can talk this—"

His body shaking but his hand still steady, he closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

That way, he didn't have to see the blue light hitting her, lighting up her petite body and ripping her from his grasp. He only opened them to look at her smoking corpse on the ground.

He bent down to make sure she really was dead—feeling for a pulse, then scanning her with his sonic screwdriver just to be safe—then satisfied that she was, he stood, tossing the ray gun to the side.

"Nasty things, guns. Well, what are you all staring at me like that for? Come on, I usually at least get a thank-you when I save a colony with a population over 10,000. I mean, not the same as a planet, mind you, but…"

None of them listened to him rambling. They were too busy glancing from the corpse to the shiny silver gun to the man who went from a murderer's intensity to this mad cheerfulness. They were disconcerted, to say the least, although still in fear of lives would perhaps be a more apt description. His mouth continued running a million miles an hour; he was obviously paying no attention.

"…I had to touch it, all cold and silver and hard, but no thank you for saving your skins! I hate guns, mind you, are you all listening to me or—"

"DOCTOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!"

They all whirled behind them to the source of the cry, a very familiar voice and—

_*Doctor Who Theme Song*_

And don't you wish the rest of the episode was up now? Well, it's coming, don't worry. And see that big button down there, that says "Review"? One way to make it come faster!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Well, rather surprised at the immediate and quite positive response I've gotten from reviewers. Quite heartening, it was. So the next chapter is coming up! Snuggle down, play the Doctor Who Theme song, and enjoy this 'episode'!

(¯`·._.·(¯`·._.·(¯`·._.·/ Panic Moon: They Never Listen \·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯)

"What?"

"What, what?"

"Well, what happens next?"

It took all of the Doctor self-control not to scream in frustration, not that his companion was helping much.

Amelia Pond had pivoted on her heels, leaning back, placing her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes, scrunching up her nose, and _huffing_ at him. For some strange reason, even though this was _all her fault_, she had decided it was her job to give him the full 'annoyed-bordering-on-angry' treatment because he wouldn't answer her stupid question.

She waited for the shocked look and the backpedaling that always came when she glared at men from this stance, but he was looking past her entirely.

"You just had to open it, didn't you?" he asked the air behind her head.

She stomped on his foot, a childish gesture yet effective way of securing his attention. "Oi, you stared at it just as eagerly as me. And it was funny."

"Funny?" he stalked forward, glaring at her. "Funny? You just saw yourself killed—"

"Is the 'evil' part rubbing off on you?" she wondered under her breath.

"—and you still think it's funny? But you had to open it. First of all, anything that pops out of the Vortex is usually dangerous. But when it specifically says, '_KEEP AMY AWAY FROM THIS AND DON'T LET HER OPEN IT, AND WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT WATCH_" in _my_ handwriting—"

"I was curious…" she weakly protested.

"And curiosity killed the cat," he snapped.

"I'm not a cat!"

"Yeah, you're just a stupid ape!"

He paused at the hurt look on her face. "Okay, that came out a bit harsh. And you're not just an ape. You're actually closer to a chimpanzee; you have far less differences in the nucleic acid sequence for hemoglobin in your bloodstream—okay, I'll stop talking now."

She stopped tapping her foot. "_Thank _you. Now listen, whoever sent this obviously knew I was going to see it, and the best way to get me interested was to tell me not to watch it under any circumstances. Come on, Doctor, you know _you_ would have watched it, you just get to lecture me because I got curious first. Besides, aren't there any other, I don't know, time travelers, who might want to play a trick on you?"

"There are no others."

"Don't give me that," she fumed. "Daleks. They can travel in time, can't they?"

"Yes, but…"

"But what?"

"They can't write. Not in my handwriting. Besides, I scanned it with my sonic screwdriver, and it's the real deal. A security tape from the moon Nalkov 5, in the fifty-second century, just after the colony was founded. It's not a fake."

Amy's eyes lit up as her mind raced. Traveling with the Doctor had perfected her already sharp cognitive skills, allowing her to see past the obvious and into the murky grey of creating _theories_. She was nowhere near as skilled as the Doctor, who seemed to be able to deduce the strangest schemes from practically no information. Still, she already had a pretty good one about what was going on in this weird tape that had popped out of the Time Vortex, apparently showing the Doctor murdering her in the future.

"So you know the coordinates of where that thing came from?"

He nodded.

"Then we're going. Except perhaps a week before. Gives us time to deal with the problem."

He stared at her, shocked. "You see a video of me killing you and you want to go there? Do you have a death wish or something? Because now that we've seen it, it's become a part of our timelines and we can't interfere—"

She leaned forward and whispered one word in his ear, one word that stopped him up short. Then, she smirked as he stood gaping.

"So don't you think we ought to go and help them?" she insisted, pushing him around and giving him a little shove towards the Tardis controls."

"Amelia Pond, you are a genius," he breathed.

"Thank me _later_, fly this big blue box of yours _now_."

*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*

Major Ashkar was not in a very good mood. First of all, he had told the Company that no civilians should be sent before the military had deemed the area safe, and the entire _moon_ was at least under the process of being surveyed, but they had ignored his advice in favor of the potential of profit. Then, of course, they go and blame him when the janitors, build crew, and staff start to go missing—after he _specifically_ warned them not to travel outside the compound. Then, when they discover that there are _monsters_, and vicious, brutal, mindless ones at that, who are attacking the colony, are the civilians evacuated? No. They decide to send more civilians—a _scientist_, a _biologist_, for goodness sake, to try to _learn_ from it all. Yeah, right. The Company just wanted to see what technological advances they could gain from this fiasco; even if they couldn't make money off of selling land to colonists, they could still gain so much from simply learning about these creatures' skins.

He sighed internally. He could understand their curiosity; after all, _he _would love to have the sort of armor that as far as they could tell, nothing could break. The only thing that hurt these great monsters—disgusting ones, too, looking like a giant sort of slug-octopus mix, huge, and with thick, hard skin—were the old, outdated Sonic weapons. It didn't even penetrate the skin—nothing did, no bullets, Gamma Rays, radiation, explosions, lasers, nothing!—except the sonic beams. The quaint blue laser-like blast took far too long to recharge, but as long as they were facing only one of those things, they were fine. Still, he hated facing them, not unless he absolutely had to. He had already lost enough men to these vicious beasts.

All of this made him upset, yes, but the true cause of his bad mood lay in the young, naïve, brash, and, of course, unforgivably bossy woman crouching down examining the dead monster in front of them.

On of his lieutenants standing behind him cleared his throat awkwardly to report. "Sir, the radar is picking up movement twenty clicks south-southwest, and forecasts say there's a storm tonight, a bad one."

The woman's head snapped up. "Another storm? Again?" Major Ashkar had to bite back his unprofessional reply of 'well, you're the scientist, you tell me,' and let her continue with her complaints of how it would definitely flood, and she couldn't afford to lose another body. Then, of course, she proceeded to ignore his statement that they should really get out of there, _right now_.

Civilians, women, and bloody intellectuals who thought they knew everything and were only good at getting themselves killed, then getting angry at you if you saved them. The three types of people whom he hated the most. This woman, this _Professor Carson_, just happened to embody all three of them simultaneously.

"Alright, you three down there, stand behind it, you two on the side, and hoist on three. One-and-a-two-and-a-UP!"

He couldn't believe it. She was commanding his men. _His_ men. It seemed like she was ordering them to carry it back, which was against Company regulations (No civilians are to see the deadly indigenous population; their way of trying to cover up and stop rumors, he supposed) and highly dangerous.

"Ms. Carson—"

"_Professor_ Carson to you," she snapped back.

"Professor Carson, there are more of these things, _live_ ones, on the radar, and we have a storm due in about—" he glanced at the time icon on his wrist computing unit, "—twenty five minutes. If either of those reach us before we reach the compound, we're all dead."

She looked him straight in the eye with that impertinent, cheeky attitude that he could never stand. "Then you better tell your men to move it, or what is it you military blockheads all say? Double time?"

Major Ashkar was _definitely_ in a bad mood today.

*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*

Something was bothering the Doctor about her whole idea, and Amelia Pond decided it was the fact that she had figured it out before him. Sure, she was his companion, but sometimes she thought the job specification was more like bobble-head: just nodding along as he went on about transdimensional wavelength converters and such. He had told her she was _magnificent_, and _brilliant_, and all of that, but she got the feeling that underneath he wished he was the one who had thought the whole thing up. After all, what other reason would he have to be searching for every single little flaw in her plan? Not to mention piloting the Tardis even more roughly than usual, sprawling her across the floor time and time again.

"It will be dangerous," he mused.

"Yeah? No more dangerous than flying around in this thing. Is it always this bumpy?"

"Aha!" His eyes lit up at the trill of discovery—probably another 'flaw' in her theory, and she rolled her eyes again. "How can we tell? If you're right about this—"

"Of course I'm right. Doctor, you were holding a _gun_, you were acting all _weird_, and threatening people, then you _shot_ me. And you don't do guns! So it was _obviously_ a shape-shifter."

"Yes, well, Miss Amelia Pond, I have found a huge flaw in your plan."

"We can have a codeword to determine if it's really us or something."

"No, I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about the part where you get shot."

"Oh."

That certainly did present a problem, Amy mused. If he shot her, then doppelganger or not, she was dead. If she didn't die, there was no way for the tape to be made, and no reason for them to come in the first place. However, despite all her logic warning her against it, she still felt the irresistible urge to find out what was going on.

"Shapeshifters, what about mind-controllers?" she wondered out loud, trying to save her theory from being ravaged even more by the Doctor.

"Naah, no reason to be worried!" he exclaimed. "I'm a Time Lord, we're one of the more psychic species, enough to be able to resist practically any form of mind control."

"Oi, you big egoist, I wasn't talking about you! What if something tries to mind control me?"

He shrugged. "I'll give you lessons, but now is not the time. Now we are debating whether this horrible idea of yours to plunge right in is a horrible idea or—"

"The Tardis isn't moving." She smirked. "We're here."

"Amy, get away from that door, we haven't finished our discu—"

"When has that ever stopped you! Come on, Doctor, I'm going, and if you want to try to keep me safe, then you better come with!"

He sighed, trying to swallow the strange feeling that it was _him_ whom she needed protecting from.

*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*

The moment he stepped outside, it hit him. They were on Nalkov 5, a moon that was colonized in the beginning of the fifty-second century (and for once the Tardis had landed in the right year), and the compound was just as it should have been. Actually, he and Amy were more in a metal corridor than 'outside', but it was the thought that counted.

No, the more he looked around, the more he could tell how _wrong_ their whole environment was. Nalkov 5 was the most popular, famous, and _populated_ moon in the whole system, and eventually became the gambling center of this whole quadrant, because land here was supposed to be so cheap. So where were all the people?

Then, the other little 'off' details began to trickle into his mind. There was no life on this moon—the atmosphere was hospitable enough, but it was a rather cold and dreary place, just grey stone (until the neon lights covered it up, not that Time Lords ever went to Nalkov 5, as it was only gambling—against the rules), and there were horrible storms that caused flash-flooding here into the roiling icy seas. If there were no indigenous life forms, then the shape-shifters were from the _inside_, and those were always far more difficult to discover. If it even was a case of shape-shifters they were dealing with here.

However, the big thing that had been nagging him, ever he had scanned the disk and discovered the year, was the sonic gun. Sonic guns had been out of style for nearly fifty years; he should know, as he was the one who turned the last factory into a banana plantation.

Something was definitely wrong here, and he was the _Doctor_, so it was his job to set it right.

*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*

Something was wrong here, definitely. Artarsal could feel it in his gut, the twist of his coelom that marked something out of place. Most of the time, Major Ashkar didn't care if someone had a bad gut feeling, but Artarsal was one of the few non-human members of this party; a member of a telepathic race hired by the Company as psychic military consultants.

"Check the heat signature scans for the number of life forms in the building," he recommended. "Something feels off."

Major Ashkar swallowed. "Another runaway and death?"

Artarsal quickly shook his head. "No, I know what that feels like, this feels like something…out of place is here. Something that doesn't belong on this moon, or anywhere, really."

"You sure it doesn't have to do with the monster we just carried in?"

"Well, those feel wrong too, but this is a different kind of wrong."

Major Ashkar liked solid facts and statistics, so it took a little time to get used to working with a psychic whose idea of informing him was 'this type of wrong' or 'that type of wrong.' However, Artarsal had saved all of their skins enough times for him to appreciate the alien's abilities. He didn't hesitate in radioing into the security hub and asking for the scans. He wasn't too surprised when he was told that he had two humanoids with no Company-regulation computing units just sort of wandering in the storage units of the compound.

Slowly, he raised his wrist-computer to his lips and held down on the screen, radioing his own men. "Go to Corridor 12, the South Entrance. We have some unregistered stowaways, and we're going to corner them. I'll meet you there. Do not shoot unless provoked, and have your guns on the setting 'stun'. If they've got information, they're more use to us alive."

Then, he turned to Artarsal. "Ready? 'Cause I don't care what type of 'wrong' this feels like, we're going to find out."

*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*

Well, you all did such a good job reviewing last time, you're getting me spoiled! Special thanks to all those who cared enough to chime in, and to those of you who missed out, now is your chance! _REVIEW!_


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Sorry, it took me far longer than the polite allotted amount of time to update. Oh, well, at least I got around to it eventually. Thank you so much for all the reviews and alerts; if it means you're enjoying the story, great!

(¯`·._.·(¯`·._.·(¯`·._.·/ Panic Moon: Pieces of the Puzzle \·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯)

His heart jumped into his throat as he heard a lot of banging and a scream. It wasn't the sort of scream he would expect from Amy either; this one was long, high-pitched, and shriek-y. His sensitive Time Lord hearing was definitely taking a blow from that one.

"Oi, what are you doing, putting some big dead monster in the middle of nowhere! You never know when people might run into it!"

The Doctor rushed around the corner, confused. It had definitely been a girl screaming, but then that was Amy's annoyed voice. After a quick gush of relief that Amelia Pond did _not_ scream like that (it opened up far more places to travel to without fear of deafness) he set his mind to better tasks, like finding out exactly what was going on.

"How…how did you get here?" Definitely a female, young, if he wasn't mistaken, and quite a bit shaken up.

"So tell me about this monster! Where did you get it? What's it called? How did you kill it? Are you dissecting it? I always loved dissecting, especially in the A-levels for science, we'd dissect fish and frogs and stuff, but nothing too big. But this is amazing! I'm Amy, by the way, and this is—" Her rant stopped as she seemed to notice that the Doctor hadn't been keeping up with her. "Oi! Doctor! Hurry up!"

He turned the last corner, pouting a bit about the way Amy ruined his big entrance, when his eyes fell on the 'monster.' "No, oh no," he muttered to himself, whipping out his sonic screwdriver.

"And this is the Doctor," Amy finished proudly, elbowing him in the ribs and forcing him to stand up. "_Be polite._"

He smiled, quickly hiding the sonic screwdriver behind his back and taking a reading of that nasty _thing_—he didn't think he had ever seen a worse bang-up of a job on genetic splicing. Really, he couldn't believe that it was alive at all. "Hello, I'm the Doctor," he said, grinning.

The woman, a rather young one with short brown hair, a freckled face, and pretty eyes, was ignoring him, choosing instead to examine what he was doing with his sonic screwdriver behind his back. He cleared his throat impatiently, and she seemed to notice the two of them staring at her expectantly. "Oh, um, Carson, Professor Rachael Carson. I'm a marine biologist, I specialize in alien forms of ocean life. Or whatever goes as an ocean. You'd be surprised what you find swimming around in methane, liquid nitrogen, even highly acidic compounds. But that doesn't really matter…Might I ask why you're zapping my only specimen with your sonic laser?"

The Doctor yanked his hand from behind his back and pointed the screwdriver emphatically at her. "_Screwdriver_. It's a sonic _screwdriver_. I don't do weapons. And I'm trying to figure out what it is because—"

"—it's not like any living thing we know of, at least not that humans have reached first. Will you let me do _my_ job, please? And could you get your sonic whatever out of my face?"

He quickly yanked it back, and began to check the reading. "Oh," he whispered. "Oh, oh, oh. Of course. No, but—_oooh_. Okay, now I—but this is just wrong? Who would—"

He broke off, realizing the two females were staring at him expectantly. It was one thing to listen to him rambling at the speed of light, but hearing him mutter tidbits could so much more easily drive someone insane.

"Full explanation, please," Rachael Carson demanded.

She was a professor, too, so he couldn't get out of this by using big terminology. Amy glanced at him expectantly, then went back to poking the monster. Sometimes he wondered if she took this seriously at all, or if it was just one big trip to the zoo for her. Although the universe was quite like a zoo, especially if—

"Now. Not in an day, not in an hour, I want answers now. Or I'll call security."

He briefly pondered which was worse, then decided to start explaining, using small words so Amy at least could keep up. No way he was explaining himself _twice_.

*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*

Major Ashkar stared in confusion. He had seen many things in his years, but this was just strange.

"Artarsal!" he roared, despite the fact that the tender-eared blue man was standing next to him. "Why the hell is there a big blue box in my corridor where you said they got in?"

A young lieutenant beat him to the answer. "Hiding a trans-mat, sir? Matter transmitter does seem like the only way in; security says that the perimeter remains completely intact."

Artarsal shook his head. "You can scan it, but you're not going to find anything. Just that it's a wooden box. It's something more, but it's disguising itself, and it's far more powerful than our scanning equipment."

"Do you mean it's futuristic technology? Get Carson to examine it, we could get some credits off the patent, maybe?"

Artarsal nodded absentmindedly. However, this didn't have the futuristic, cutting-edge _taste_ of new technology. Whatever it was, it was old, very, very old.

*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*

"This is not a new species. This thing was never even alive. It's an exoskeleton of sorts of various badly spliced alien DNA with a self-aware compound of metal inside of it, linking it to a mainframe."

"What?"

"I'd say it's mostly iron, with a bit of boulatonium mixed it to give it the special properties but it's very cheap. A very splotchy job."

"There is no such thing as boulatonium—"

"Here in this galaxy for another couple centuries, then you discover it, Company forms a mining branch, and you all become crazy rich. But this is _way_ too early. This will throw off history, big time. Without the Union at its full force, the Company will take over, basically enslave the human race so that the few at the top can live in opulence. _But who's doing this?_"

"That's you're great theory? Living metal and a conspiracy theory about the Company? The way I see it, you're the intruders, you have something to do with this. Giac, go call security!"

A small turquoise alien boy with wide eyes ran to the computer, and quickly began typing.

"Oi!"

All eyes whipped over to Amelia Pond.

"Don't believe the Doctor? Easy way to solve this. Metal scanner. Now, you're the marine biologist, you tell me, don't all the fishy things generally have skeletons of cartilage?"

"You can't assume that—"

"Yes," the Doctor cut her off, glaring. "And Metoklins don't count because technically they're not fish, in about 35 years they'll officially declare that the liquid-like solution they live in is too thick to be considered an ocean, it's something else entirely. They become a whole new class to themselves."

"Metal scan, right?" She slapped her hand down on the big black machine next to her.

"Careful!" Carson gasped. "Delicate equipment!"

Amy snorted and pressed 'on', then watched as it hummed. The Doctor and Professor Carson quickly ran over. "And see? Mostly carbon steel—wrong, Doctor—"

"Carbon steel is _made_ from iron."

"Whatever, but 2% an unknown, inorganic, metallic compound."

"How do I know it's not a trick?"

"Typical ape. Listen, Amelia Pond, and note well. This is what you humans do. A big problem that you don't understand is plopped in front of you, and someone offers a perfectly reasonable explanation, and suddenly all the brain power you could have used to figure it out yourself goes to picking apart the other idea."

Amy nodded, smiling to herself. A taste of his own medicine, for not listening to her great idea back in the Tardis. Karma is rather sweet when it's on your side.

"Who are you?" Carson demanded.

"I'm the Doctor."

"Let me make myself clear." She stalked forward. "You talk about things and technology that hasn't been invented yet, you refer to the future as history, and you called me an ape as if you yourself weren't human. So who are you? One of the upset second-class races, playing a big elaborate trick on us?"

"Yeah, sure. You got me there, I'm, um…" he scanned his mind for any other race that had a binary vascular system, but none looked even remotely human. "I'm a shapeshifter from the Genovite moons. I tried to imitate a human, but, um, botched up. Got a couple extra organs."

"You're lying." The young alien boy, Giac, spoke.

"What nonsense are you spewing now?" Carson hissed, glaring at him.

"Please, miss, but I was just reading about the species he claimed to be, studying your texts, and Genovitians never make mistakes. They also copy DNA directly. If he were a Genovitian traveling with her, he would look identical to her. They need the host alive and nearby to keep up the illusion. But that would be impossible, because all the Genovitians are dead. Company labeled them as danger-code red, so first offence the moon made and it was wiped clean of life."

The Doctor frowned. "That's impossible. What about the legend of the Great Genovitian Revolt? Bestselling book in the galaxy, topped the chart for years, based off a real-life story that the author claimed to be present at. Should be written about now."

"Giac, you're useless! I never should have bought you! We have a potential alien who lies and spews nonsense, and where is security? Did you forget? And what is all this about Genovians? You've been reading my texts again, and that's illegal! You're not even supposed to read!"

"Sorry, ma'am," Giac replied, his head hanging. "I was re-organizing the files on your computer, and the text caught my eye. Security says they're currently investigating a strange piece of alien technology, though. Appears to be a big blue box."

"The Tardis!" Amy cried, rushing for the door. "What if they hurt it or something!"

"I'd like to see them try," the Doctor said darkly.

Carson looked at the three of them, Amelia, the Doctor, and Giac, as if contemplating how dangerous taking them would be. Finally, she turned to the Doctor, placing one finger on his lapel. "You. Are coming with me. Amelia, I take it you are human?"

"Um…"

"Yes," the Doctor quickly answered for her. "You can check your scanners."

"Then you stay with Giac and make sure he doesn't touch anything. Doctor, you're coming with me."

*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*

Major Ashkar grinned vindictively. Best part of his job, getting to blow stuff up.

"Everyone back!"

"Won't work," Artarsal said.

"Three!"

"You're blowing up alien technology that could potentially lead to advances for the Company!"

"The alien will know how it works, and besides, it will draw him out and cut off his escape. Two!"

"Still won't work."

"One….and…"

"_NOOOOOOOOOOO! STOP THAT EXPLOSION!"_ The Doctor's scream could be heard ringing down the corridor as he sprinted even fasted towards the blockade around the Tardis.

"Detonate."

There was silence, then white light, then the shock wave hit, throwing everyone back through the air as the whole corridor was torn apart. Nothing could have survived that.

"What have you done?" the Doctor whispered.

*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*DW*

Review! And for reviewers who love to play trivia games, I have some questions for you!

(a) One of the characters mentioned existed/is based on someone fairly famous in our own history. Who is it, who is (s)he based on, and what did (s)he do in real life?

(b) The Trans-mat! Where has the Doctor mentioned it before, and what race was using it?


End file.
